Neither Here Nor There
by Maddiecake
Summary: Orderlies? Greasers? Where IS Johnny?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **I'm sorry, you guys! I'm having problems focusing on one story. The ideas just sort of pop up... and leave... I'm working on a chapter for Infected right now... JRC should be updated soon. As for The Godfather... because I haven't been able to watch it recently, that might go on hiatus.

Blood soaked Walls might get deleted, I don't think I can write that one anymore. All my muse has vanished, and Cheater and Reed keep bantering inside my head— drives me nuts.

So I don't know what I'm going to do about this anymore, I go on here enough but lately I've been experiencing a hell of a lot of writers block. Maybe I just need to sleep more or something. Getting ready for high school doesn't help much either. I've spent the last week touring my high school, voting for ASBEC, picking my classes... freaking out about grades... etc. A poetry contest I entered in November... the results were sent to me in the mail and my poem is being published, but only the winners can actually purchase the book (which sucks, but I'm happy. I've been published... sorta).

But you don't want to hear about that, right? xD You want to read the story (or I hope that's why you're here).  
On we go.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the characters you have heard of, and I do not own where this idea came from. _Normal Again_, which is a Buffy episode is responsible for this, and the person who gave me the idea for watching this episode is The Second Batgirl, who wrote Shades of Grey, a Newsies fic.

Longest disclaimer for one of my fics? I think so.

* * *

"You're dead, greaser! Worthless piece of _shit_!" 

Johnny dashed through the seemingly never-ending rows of houses, dodging people on the sidewalk and the occasional car when crossing the street became unavoidable. His breath was coming in gasps, and he was quickly running out of the energy he needed to escape his pursuer.

The whole chain of events that had led up to this moment had not been Johnny's fault at all. He had simply been reaching in his locker to search for his history homework and a nicely dressed girl walked up to his locker and began to talk to him.

Johnny, while not the most intelligent person, knew that a nice-looking girl didn't just walk up to a greaser and start talking.

Something was up.

It was then that an angry yell came from the end of the hallway. Johnny turned fearfully and saw none other than the captain of the football team, Travis Clark, making his way towards them.

Travis Clark was a large, well-built senior who had a reputation for dating girls for about a week, having sex with them, and dumping them shortly after. He had a lot of money, and therefore thought he could date whoever he pleased. Despite this little flaw, people still continued to fawn over him, and girls would run off to brag to their friends when he winked at them in the hallway.

Another thing that he had a reputation for was his bad temper.

"Were you hitting on _my_ girl?!" He bellowed, bits of spit flying out of his mouth and landing on Johnny and whatever was behind him. One of Travis' large fists smashed into the locker next to him, creating a dent.

"N-n-n-n-"

"WELL?!"

"No... I wasn't... she was just..." Johnny stammered, looking fearfully from Travis to the dent in the locker next to him. That could be his head in a few minutes.

"Nobody hits on my girl, grease ball. I'm gonna kick you're a—"

At that moment, the bell rang, signaling the beginning of the next class. Johnny thanked whoever had thought up the bell, and the entire school system. He ducked under Travis' arm and scampered down the hall, not once looking back.

The rest of the day went by smoothly, and Johnny just about forgot about Travis Clark. That is, until he walked out the front doors at the end of the day.

And this is where we came in.

Johnny continued to run, all the while slowing down from lack of energy. His footsteps made a sort of slapping sounds on the pavement. Mixed with his heavy breathing, it made a rhythm that seemed to remind him to keep going.

Keep going, or he was going to die.

He skidded around a corner, nearly loosing his balance, and stopped. His eyes widened in horror, and he let out a shocked gasp. Standing before him was none other than Mr. Travis Clark.

Johnny barely had time to turn around, before a large pair of hands clamped down on his shoulders, and he was slammed into a wall. Something cold was pressed against his throat; a knife.

His breath began to come in gasps, and he shut his eyes tight. _Oh god, I'm gonna die... I'm gonna die... this is it... _

"Easy, grease. I'm not gonna kill you."

Johnny let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding.

"Yet."

Mentally, the young greaser damned that word and the long pause before it to the deepest depths of hell. Physically, he almost began to sob.

"Don't. You. Ever. Talk. To. My. Girlfriend. Again." Travis hissed, each time bringing his fist into Johnny's stomach.

"Okay, okay..." Johnny gasped, wishing that Travis would just leave him alone, maybe go to his girlfriend and regale her with the tale of how he beat up the guy that had been hitting on her earlier.

"How do I know you're being sincere?" Travis asked, his face close to Johnny's. Johnny could smell liquor mixed with cigarettes and God knows what else on his breath and tried not to gag, lest he anger the great beast even more. "How do I know you _mean_ it?"

"I mean it!"

"What if you forget?"

"I won't, I promise... I really promise..." Johnny did _not_ deal well with interrogation. He was used to just getting the beating, and then the whole thing was over. As it was, it was only a few punches to the chest and he was now being held against the wall, his feet dangling a few inches off the ground, with a very angry Soc asking him questions.

He felt like he was going to loose his mind, or start crying. Perhaps both, if God hated him that much.

"How do I _know_?"

The blade being pressed against his throat was gone. Travis dropped him, but kept a hand on his shoulder. He looked calm; almost as if he would let Johnny go with just a warning.

Such a thing did not happen, for moments later something, probably the blade, was pushed into his upper arm. Johnny began to struggle against Travis' grip, biting back the scream that threatened to spill past his lips.

"Mr. Cade, stop struggling..."

"He's going to break the needle! We're going to have to strap him down."

"No, he's calming down."

Johnny's eyes, once wide with terror, fluttered closed as he collapsed in the two orderlies arms.

* * *

**Ending Note: **What has happened?  
Well, if it's not obvious, I'm a little amazed... not because I think it's obvious, but I'm afraid it may be obvious even though I don't want it to be.

In any case, my Johnny muse is going to murder me in my sleep for this... I'm so mean to him... but he knows I love him.

Until next time, kiddos!  
(Seriously though, I'm going to start working on another chapter right now)


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **See, I told you I'd start writing another chapter as soon as possible.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any character you've seen, or heard of.  
Unless you know I made them.

_Johnny's eyes, once wide with terror, fluttered closed as he collapsed in the two orderlies arms._

"Johnny... hey Johnnycake, wake up."

Johnny's eyes opened and he found himself looking into the concerned face of Sodapop Curtis.

_What are the chances that I'm in the Curtis' house?_ He thought, and sat up slowly. For a moment the world spun, and the walls seemed to change from the picture-covered walls of the Curtis house to light grey stone.

When the world came back into focus, he found that he had been right. This was, in fact, the house in which the Curtis brothers resided, and he was on their couch.

_How many times has _this_ happened?_

"Are you okay? Pony found you on his way home from track... your arm was bleedin' like crazy." Soda explained, now making his way to the kitchen and busying himself with something in the oven. Chances were that it was either dinner, or chocolate cake.

"I'm fine." Johnny said, his voice barely above a whisper. He examined the bandage wrapped around his upper arm and was amazed to see that, despite the many layers, a spot of blood was coming through. Travis must have gotten the knife in deep.

"No, you're not."

The voice was not that of Sodapop Curtis. It was not Darry, nor was it Ponyboy, Steve, Dally, and it sure as hell was not Two-Bit. Whoever had spoken had spoken softly, yet the words echoed throughout the room.

_Echoed_.

Things in the Curtis house didn't _echo_. It wasn't empty enough for that to happen... so... where was he?

Johnny looked around the room, and saw nothing but light grey. The walls were light grey, the bed in the corner was light grey, the door was light grey, and the bars on the windows were light grey.

"So glad for you to join us, Mr. Cade." The voice seemed bored, as if this sort of thing happened frequently.

"Um..."

"You've been gone for quite some time. We were afraid you'd never come back."

Something caught Johnny's eye, and he saw a man standing in one of the far corners. He was a small, balding man, with cold blue eyes. His mouth was set in a frown, and he wore a white coat. "I, Mr. Cade, and Doctor Sheldon."

There was a pause, in which Johnny scooted back into a corner and brought his knees to his chest. His head was reeling; how in the world did he get to this place? More importantly, where _was_ he?

"Do you know where you are?"

"T-Tulsa?" Johnny asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Dr. Sheldon laughed, a short, barking laugh that made the hair on the back of Johnny's neck stand on end. "Hardly. You are in Salem Mental Institution in Salem, Oregon. You have been here for a year now, after a woman found you in an alley. I must say, you put up quite a fight over the past few months when we tried to give you your medication."

Johnny said nothing, staring at Dr. Sheldon, dumbfounded.

"Now, what year is it?"

"19...1966?"

"Wrong." The Doctor's voice was not quite at a volume that would be considered 'yelling' but it was certainly louder. "It is 1993, 27 years after your little delusion takes place."

_Delusion_? Was Dr. Sheldon telling him that everything... everyone he knew... they were all in his mind?! That wasn't possible.

"But... the gang..."

"Aren't _real_."

Johnny bit his lip and looked at the Dr. He felt angry, scared, and alone. Did this man, someone he had never met, expect him to believe that everything he knew was a lie? That _this_ was the real world, and that being confined in a room was the way to cure him?

"You're lying."

Dr. Sheldon looked at Johnny, amazed that the boy, who had been so quiet and fearful only moments before, was now accusing him of lying.

"Mr. Cade, I suggest you don't talk back to me—"

"You're _lying_! The gang... everything... it _does_ exist and I _am_ in 1966! You're _lying_!"

There was a moment where Dr. Sheldon surveyed the boy before him, almost as if he was contemplating whether or not Johnny's statement was true. The silence pushed in on Johnny, and he curled himself into a small ball, as if doing that would help him escape it.

Dr. Sheldon was advancing now, all the while looking at Johnny with disgust.

_SMACK_

"Don't question my authority again, Mr. Cade. Or your punishment will be worse."

With that, Dr. Sheldon left the room; leaving Johnny confused and alone.

-------

"'Ey, wake up."

Something prodded Johnny's arm, and he opened one eye. A man in a white coat was nudging him with his foot.

"'S time for breakfast."

Johnny stood up and stretched, his muscles stiff from sleeping in that curled-up position. The orderlies waited for him patiently, and then led him out of his room and into a large cafeteria.

"You're gonna be sitting with these guys. Nowhere else, got it?"

He nodded, and sat down in an empty chair next to a tall, thin young man with curly brown hair and hazel eyes. On his other side was a woman with a thin face and vivid green eyes. Her blonde hair looked as if it had been burned off at the ends.

"What's your name?"

The speaker was a small, dark eyed girl. She was unnaturally pale, and disturbingly thin. What looked like nail marks covered her face and arms, and probably her legs. She looked at him expectantly, absent-mindedly twirling a lock of hair around her index finger.

"Johnny." He mumbled, looking down at the table instead of meeting her eyes.

"A nice name for a nice man."

Johnny looked in the direction of the high, obviously fake, voice. He found himself looking at a man, and a large one at that.

"The names Amy, sugar."

It went around the table like that, and Johnny was introduced to "Amy", Miranda, Joseph, Logan, Rachel, and Amanda. All of them seemed like perfectly normal people (save for Amy).

Soon, lunch was over, and he was being brought back to his room. The feeling of loneliness returned yet again as he was locked in, and he listened to the footsteps of the orderly fade away.

**End Note: **Yay updates!  
And grazie to my few reviewers!


	3. Chapter 3

"...hope you like vanilla icing, Johnnycake. Darry got the wrong kind yesterday and—kid?" Soda stopped talking and stared at the couch where Johnny had once been sitting. He had been there only seconds ago; Soda was sure that he hadn't been gone long enough for Johnny to slip out the door, and even if he had, the sound of the door slamming would have been a sign that the younger boy had left the house.

_Maybe he's in the bathroom. _He thought, taking advantage of Johnny's absence and biting into the cake. "Cooph ooph or ugoo..." Soda said through a mouth full of cake, voicing his dislike for the lack of sugar.

When Johnny didn't return for more than a minute, Soda came to the conclusion that either his friend had a horrible case of diarrhea, or Johnny had somehow vanished. "Johnny? You okay?"

There was no answer.

He set the plate down and stood up, only to fall back a few moments later when he saw something out of the corner of his eye that made him jump. When Soda turned toward whatever he had seen, he found that it was Johnny.

However, Johnny wasn't completely there. His skin seemed to shimmer and move, almost like the surface of a lake. The boy's eyes were glassy, and his mouth moved forming words that Soda could not hear.

"J-Johnny? You okay, man?"

Johnny seemed to look right through him. "I got rid of you... you're not coming back... 's not my fault..." His voice was distant, echoing, sad. He wasn't wearing his usual outfit, and instead wore a loose-fitting white gown that almost reached his ankles. His feet were bare; bruises and cuts covered the skin that Soda could see.

"_Shit_ Johnny! You scared me... you don't look too good..." Soda trailed off as the apparition began to fade. He swore loudly and fell off the couch, upsetting the cake and having it land on his face. When he got the plate and what was left of the cake off his face, Johnny was gone.

Soda didn't know whether he had passed out or not, but the next time he registered anything around him, he was in his and Pony's bed with the covers pulled over him and his brothers waiting in the room.

Had he really seen Soda?

No. Soda wasn't real. Dr. Sheldon kept telling him that everything he had experienced over the past few years wasn't real at all. Everything he could remember was simply a figment of his imagination; something he used to escape the real world.

It wasn't working anymore.

Johnny had tried so _hard_ this time to go back. He had focused and focused on what he remembered from Tulsa, and when the Doctor had walked in to talk to him and had seen his patient trying to go back, Johnny was dealt a blow that sent him flying backwards (the man was surprisingly strong for someone so small).

"No meals today." Dr. Sheldon had hissed as he exited Johnny's cell-like room, slamming the door behind him.

Wiping the blood from his nose, Johnny sat up and let out a shaky sigh. He didn't know what was real anymore. He had just seen Soda, and he had heard him talk. But Dr. Sheldon had actually _touched_ him. He had drawn blood, caused pain... Soda hadn't done that.

_Soda would never do that._ A part of his mind stated mater-of-factly. Johnny resisted the urge to roll his eyes and scoff.

His stomach growled, and he hugged his knees to his chest. Over the past few... months, days, years? He had lost count, but he knew he had gotten much thinner. The clothes he had been given, while they hadn't fit him snugly at first, hadn't hung off him like they did now.

Johnny sighed again, and stood up. His head swam and he stumbled over to his bed, laying down and closing his eyes. If he was going to be stuck inside all day, he might as well catch up on some sleep.

**-anachronism-**

"Where are you?"

"Tulsa."

_CRACK_

His head hit the wall and his ears rang. One hit, and already he was close to blacking out. This place was doing a number on Johnny, all right.

"Where are you?"

"T-Tulsa." He didn't want to be in this institution anymore. Maybe if he said he was in Tulsa, he would be there.

"Wrong."

Another punch sent the chair he was sitting in toppling over. A swift kick to the ribs made Johnny yelp, and he pulled himself to his feet, wincing.

Dr. Sheldon hadn't batted an eye. In fact, he was smiling, as if Johnny's pain amused him. "I will give you one more chance, Mr. Cade. Where. Are. You?"

Johnny weighed his options. He was hungry, tired, and he ached. If he just answered like he was supposed to, he would be able to eat, sleep, and escape from the beatings of the orderlies and the doctor for maybe a few moments. However, if he continued to answer 'Tulsa' he could keep the dream alive. He could keep believing that he _was_ a Greaser in 1966 who lived in Tulsa, Oklahoma with two abusive parents, but their lack of love was made up for by his friends.

What to do, what to do...

"Answer, boy!"

Another punch was thrown, and Johnny ducked, just as another hit his stomach. "Salem." He gasped, closing his eyes and trying to focus on anything but the pain.

"Very good. Take him to the cafeteria."

Two large orderlies took his arms and half-dragged him to the cafeteria. He didn't fight, he didn't say anything, and when he was unceremoniously thrown into a chair with a cup of pills, he swallowed them without a fuss.

The dark-eyed girl who had introduced herself as Logan was sitting next to him today, and she grinned at him. "Hey, Johnny! Fancy seein' you here... Joseph said they'd put you in Iso."

Johnny looked over at the thin young man with curly hair. The man smiled tentatively at him, and Johnny felt the corners of his lips move up in reply.

"Where were you?" Logan asked. She had new nail marks on her face, and some were still bleeding. Johnny wondered what was wrong with her, but decided to answer the question. After all, he had to get to know these people if he was going to be spending time with them until he was a "productive member of society".

He shrugged, as if to say where he had been was no big deal. "I got in trouble, so they wouldn't let me outta my room."

"You look like shit." A deep voice said. The large man named "Amy" raised an eyebrow, and Johnny shrugged again.

"Arnold, be nice." Rachel, the woman with the singed hair, said with a frown. "Did he hurt you at all?"

Silence.

**-enunciate-**

I didn't like the ending much...


	4. Chapter 4

"He was right there, I swear he was!" Soda pointed at the couch. Darry raised his eyebrows; not able to take his younger brother seriously when he had cake on his face. He would have said something to his younger brother along the lines of 'I believe we had this talk; no more sugar after noon' but the alarm in which Soda had told him everything that had happened stopped him.

Who knew, maybe Sodapop was telling the truth.

The door hit the wall with a _bang_, and Dallas strolled inside (he always liked to make an entrance). "Hey, you seen Johnny? I was gonna see if he wanted to go to Buck's with me."

Johnny occasionally went with Dally to one of Buck's parties. He never drank, but enjoyed just being somewhere were people were having a good time (not that the Curtis house didn't make him happy, but somehow it wasn't as happy as one of Buck's parties was).

"He was here, but Soda says he left." Darry responded.

"But he came back!" Soda exclaimed, the cake still on his face. "He came back but he was like a ghost or somethin'... he didn't look to good..."

Dally raised an eyebrow and looked at the middle Curtis. "You're nuts, Soda. Johnny ain't dead, and there's no such thing as ghosts."

Soda let out an exasperated sigh, and stomped off to the bathroom to wash the cake off his face (at last). Why wouldn't anyone believe him? Johnny was in trouble, and even before he had seen his friend appear in the room, he had _felt_ it. Like he had felt uneasy the whole day before Johnny had been beat up. The gang should have been feeling the same thing... or was he the only one acknowledging it?

He closed the door behind him, and got undressed before stepping into the shower. Now that he thought about it, the whole idea _was_ pretty crazy. Only a few moments later, his head began to ache. It throbbed, and he let out a small whimper. Something was wrong, here...

then he was gone.

**-anachronism-**

"Where are you?!"

Soda opened one eye, and gaped at the scene before him. There was a small, middle-aged man, who was shouting something at a figure on the floor while two larger men took turns punching or kicking him.

He got closer; the four seemed to not notice him at all. When he was close enough to touch the doctor, he realized that the person on the floor was Johnny. The young boy's eyes were glassy, and he simply lay there while the two men beat him.

It was almost like Johnny wasn't there.

"Jonathan! I command you to come back this _INSTANT_!"

The glassy look left Johnny's eyes, and he raised his head to look at the doctor, seemingly confused. Soda was too shocked to move, or do anything, really.

Johnny's mouth moved, but at first nothing came out. "He's right behind you... I told you he would come back, but I'm s-sorry... I'm not doing it this time..." He was pleading with the man, but looking right at Soda.

He could see him.

"_Johnny, man, don't talk to this asshole!_" Soda exclaimed, his voice came out muffled, as if he was speaking through some sort of fabric.

"Who's behind me?" The man asked, smirking. One of the larger men raised a hand, as if to hit Johnny. The boy eyed the hand fearfully.

"No... he's... he's not here... I was just... light..." His voice broke, and Johnny flinched as the larger man patted the boy on the head, almost like a dog.

"_It's me, Soda! C'mon, kid, I know you can see me..._"

Johnny shook his head, looking at Soda as if to say 'you're not real'. He had changed so much in the few hours. How long had Johnny been here if only about four hours had passed where Soda was? From the looks of it, a few months at least.

"Good." The man turned to leave the room, and the two others followed. When the door closed behind them, Soda approached Johnny and put a hand on his shoulder.

Or, he would have, if his hand had not gone straight through his friend.

"_Johnny, what's happening?_"

But Johnny didn't seem to be able to see Soda anymore. His eyes had become glassy again, and he was murmuring things that didn't make any sense. Soda watched as Johnny moved to the small bed in the corner and sat down on it, his words getting louder.

"Well I don't _believe_ in this anymore, are you happy now?! You fucking _sick_ bastards! YOU SICK FUCKS! I'M FINE!" He screamed, his voice cracking on the word 'fine'. Johnny's shoulders shook with sobs as he buried his face in his arms.

Soda watched in horror as the sobs slowly got louder, turning into wails.

What had they done to him?

**-enunciate-**

Ohhh, aren't I evil? Short chapter, but I'm going to put all my other fics off until I finish this, then I'll finish JRC, and FINALLY, I'll start working on The Godfather. The last fic I'll work on will be Infected.

So... you better start enjoying this story... because it's all you're going to see from me for a while (unless I put something in Writers Block, which is the fic that never ends).


	5. Chapter 5

"You'll be sitting here. Don't move anywhere else."

Johnny didn't look up from his breakfast, a bowl of Rice Crispies, he opened his mouth to say 'I haven't moved since you put me here' but almost fell out of his chair when he saw someone standing behind him.

"I won't." The voice was hoarse and scratchy, almost as if the owner had not used it for many years. Johnny looked at the patient out of the corner of his eye, and saw that he had his eyes closed. However, when Johnny turned to get a better look at the new person he saw that the patient (who was male) did not have his eyes closed by choice. The small, crisscrossing threads and dots on his eyelids showed that his eyes were sewn shut.

Johnny gaped, but the others didn't seem to notice. They were all busying themselves with other things. Logan looked at the boy and said "hi, Taylor", but she didn't do much else.

"How was Iso?" Rachel looked up from her breakfast at Taylor, and the boy shrugged. "I don't really know."

"We have a new guy named Johnny." Joseph said from across the table. Taylor turned his head and (surprisingly) "looked" right at him.

"You're not supposed to be here."

That surprised him. Nobody else seemed to get that he wasn't supposed to be there, but Taylor, a person he had never met, knew right away. Johnny stared at Taylor with wide eyes. "How can you tell?"

Taylor grinned, an expression that looked foreign on his face. "I just know."

The boy was small, and his clothes hung off him in an almost comical way. Every once in a while, he would brush his brown hair out of his face with a pale hand. Various bruises covered his face and arms. He couldn't have been older than eleven.

Johnny found himself asking how old Taylor was.

"Thirteen, almost fourteen."

Taylor sat down, and Joseph set a bowl of cereal in front of him. Johnny wondered how in the world the boy was going to be able to find the spoon, but it only took a few seconds, and soon Taylor was eating ravenously.

Johnny looked down at his own cereal. He had not eaten much of it, and now he felt like it was a waste. Taylor must not have eaten for a long time, and here he was, a patient in this place for only two months, and he was barely touching his breakfast.

He took a bite, feeling sick as soon as he had swallowed. His apatite had diminished, thus his rapid loss of weight. Johnny took another bite, and forced himself to swallow. Next to him, Taylor pushed away the bowl and sighed.

Johnny took yet another bite, and found himself suddenly gagging on the spoonfuls he had eaten earlier. He covered his mouth with one hand, and gagged again. Logan looked up briefly, and then did a double take.

"Johnny, are you okay?"

Taylor, who had been lost in his own thoughts, turned to "look" at the greaser. "He's going to puke."

He gagged again, and felt some of his breakfast slip past his lips and into his hands. Johnny closed his eyes tight, holding it in. He shouldn't have eaten so much of that... he shouldn't have eaten...

"C'mon, get him to a bathroom before he—"

Johnny gagged again, and he vomited into his cereal bowl (which was now empty, so nothing really spilled). Everyone seemed to be staring at him, but nobody seemed to want to _help_.

He was breathing heavily, trying to stop his head from spinning, but he gagged again and threw up what was left in his stomach. His shoulders shook, and tears rolled down his cheeks. Johnny was not only mortified, but his stomach felt like it was being torched and stabbed with pitchforks.

"Mr. Cade! Disruptions such as these will _not _be tolerated!" Doctor Sheldon grabbed his shoulders and whirled the greaser around. Taylor stood up, knocking his chair over as he did so.

"Johnny didn't do anything!" The exclamation sounded strange, seeing as with a voice like his, Taylor was unable to yell. Instead, it came out as a rasp.

"Don't talk back to me, boy!" The "good" doctor dealt Taylor a blow that sent him staggering into another table. Blood flowed freely from his nose.

"I think you need to pay a visit to our shock therapy room." Dr. Sheldon hissed, dragging Johnny away from the table. The boy looked shocked for a moment, before a tremor ran through his body and he became still.

"Bring the other one." He commanded, motioning to Taylor with his free hand before handing Johnny over to one of the orderlies and leading the way to the shock therapy room.

**-anachronism-**

Sodapop's chest heaved again, and he spit into the toilet before resting his head against the cool porcelain. Johnny was defiantly in trouble, and although he could no longer see it (seeing it once was enough) he could still feel it. His head pounded, and his skin was clammy.

Darry came into the bathroom, and put a hand on Soda's forehead. It was hot, but not burning. Soda didn't seem to acknowledge his presence, and instead closed his eyes. "You're not going to work today, little buddy." Darry said, and he felt Soda relax a bit.

"You gonna be okay?"

"Yeah, Dar... just... gimme a sec..."

Soon enough, Soda had dragged himself from the bathroom and was now laying on the couch with his eyes closed. The house was oddly quiet, Two-Bit having taken Ponyboy to school and Steve hadn't showed up. Nobody knew where the hell Dallas was, but the best guess was that he went to Buck's the night before and was passed out in a bedroom with his latest "girlfriend".

With a final check up on Soda, Darry left the house. As soon as he heard the truck driving away, he sat up and turned on the TV. It didn't matter that all that was on was an old episode of _The Twilight Zone_, he just wanted the silence to end.

**-anachronism-**

Pain, screaming, laughter...

Johnny's nails dug into the palms of his hands, and his mouth was open in a never-ending scream as current after current of electricity was transferred into his body. The electrocution stopped for a moment, while Dr. Sheldon took a moment to get Taylor set up. The younger boy looked calm, but his hands were shaking as the doctor strapped him in.

All at once, there was a flash and the pain began. There were two different people screaming now, and so much _pain_...

Johnny just blacked out.


	6. Chapter 6

**Brief (haha) Author's Note:** This will not be a long fic. Mostly because I believe in quality, not quantity, and I think that if I go past a certain number, my writing won't be as good and I'll just be trying to push the plot forward. That, and I want to finish my in-progress fics so I can write a _new_ fic involving my Johnnycakes. xDD

Annnnd someone is going to kill me if I don't update JRC. I already have an ending in mind for this...

None of my fics are very long, are they?

Little Note 'O Fun: Maddie is currently half-asleep and she had a dream last night entirely in German. She has no idea what it means, so she's confused... and tired. Tired as hell.

**-enunciate-**

"Hey Soda, where's Johnny?"

Soda, who had been trying to fall asleep, opened one eye and looked at Dallas. Johnny didn't go to school a lot, and it was common knowledge that one day he was just going to stop going altogether.

"Ionno, Dal," Soda mumbled sleepily. He yawned and sat up, rubbing his eyes before stretching. "Haven't you seen him?" Of course, this question was pointless because Soda knew _exactly_ where Johnny was.

"Nope, I haven't seen him around lately... d'you think his old man did something really bad this time?" Dallas clenched his hands into fists, showing his hatred for Johnny's father. "That son of a bitch better not have done anything."

Just then, the door was thrown open, and someone staggered inside. Soda's head swam for a moment as he looked upon...

"_Johnny?_"

**-applicable-**

Johnny staggered into the Curtis house. He didn't know where he was, and his legs and arms ached. His whole _body_ ached.

"_What are you doin' here, boy?"_

"_Wh-who are you?"_

"_Your father, you sonnofabitch!"_

_Pain, metal ripping his flesh, screaming... electricity..._

A father wasn't supposed to beat their child. Where was he? If that was his father, where in the almighty universe _was_ he? Dr. Sheldon had told him his parents were dead, and that none of his family wanted to take him in.

Dr. Sheldon.

A tremor ran through the thin boy's body, and he grabbed on to the doorframe for support. If he wasn't there, he was going to get killed (and what scared him more was that this was not a metaphor).

"_Johnny?_"

Johnny looked in the direction that he had heard his name, and saw two boys. One was sitting on the couch, the other standing up with a cigarette between his lips. The one on the couch let out a small gasp, and the one with the cigarette, the blonde one, swore.

"Did your old man do that?"

Johnny said nothing, and stepped back a bit. He was so confused. How did they know about his dad? How did they even know his name?

"Johnny, are you okay?"

"_Johnny_!"

Johnny swayed a bit, and grabbed on to the doorframe again. The force that the blonde boy had used in his voice reminded him a lot of the doctor. Were these boys going to be as horrible to him as the doctor was?

The blonde one stepped forward, and Johnny froze.

"Johnny, c'mon... it's Dally... kid, are you okay?" Dally reached out to touch Johnny, but the boy jumped back, his eyes wild.

"I'msosorryIdidn'tmeantodoanythingitwasn'tmyfaultitjusthappenedthey'renotreal! They aren't real..."

With that, Johnny vanished.

**-enigma-**

"Where were you?"

Johnny leaned against the wall of his cell, staring at Taylor. It never ceased to amaze him when the boy was able to know things that could be known only when one had use of their eyes.

"I... I don't know," he whispered, trying to keep himself from screaming as he sank down to a sitting position against the wall. His back hurt so badly, and he was sure that he was in for another "therapy" session today.

Taylor sat down next to him, and sighed. "Where are you from?"

"Tulsa..."

"No, no, I mean what _time_," Taylor rasped, turning his head to Johnny.

Johnny opened his mouth to reply, but the door opened.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author Note:**

Wow, lookie here, I'm updating!

After what? A long time of not updating, right?  
Well, I'm not going to bother doing the math because I hate math and it gives me headaches. Cell Block Tango doesn't work with this fic. Ever.

I don't own anyone except Taylor, who I'm using in a story for my 0 period class, which is advanced writing and my teacher told me that he like, has to have something happen to him. Which I hate so much, because he's like... adorable, right?

Well, I think he's adorable.

I mean, more adorable than Johnny, and he's a pocket-sized stud muffin!

Johnny!Muse: POCKET-SIZED?!

Maddie: Kid, you're short... deal with it

**-anachronism-**

"Taylor, have you taken your medication?"

Taylor turned toward the doctor, his spider-like fingers drumming unceasingly on his thigh. He was nervous. Where was Johnny? Was he okay? His mask was starting to break, and now you could see that underneath it all, he was terrified. It was slipping... he was so _afraid_.

"_Taylor_."

Dr. Sheldon waited. Taylor frightened him sometimes. Such a young person should not do that, and he wanted to _hurt_ whoever could accomplish such a thing; especially when they were technically blind _and_ a child.

"_TAYLOR_!"

"I haven't," he whispered, still drumming his fingers on his thigh.

"Why not, Taylor?" Dr. Sheldon wished he could just kick Taylor out onto the streets, leave him to die.

Taylor took a deep breath, steadying himself. "I don't need it."

Dr. Sheldon scoffed, his blue eyes narrowed. Every patient said that, and he wasn't about to believe this one. "Taylor," he said, his voice calm and friendly, "_take your medication_!" His voice had changed easily to a bellow, which frightened the patient. Dr. Sheldon smirked. It wasn't so hard to control Taylor.

"I don't have it," Taylor said, pulling himself to his feet and taking a small step back.

"You don't _have it_?"

"No... I'm sorry... I... I couldn't open the door," Taylor stuttered, his eyes moving under his eyelids as if he was glancing around the room for something that could help him. There was nothing, of course.

"DON'T MAKE UP EXCUSES," Dr. Sheldon bellowed, his hands balling into fists.

Taylor was silent. He stood still, frozen. The only sign that he was even alive was the rise and fall of his chest and his eyes, which moved under his eyelids almost as unceasingly as his fingers had on his thigh.

"Take your medication."

"I don't have it s—"

Dr. Sheldon punched Taylor right then and there. There was a sickening crunch as Taylor, whose nose had been hurt only two days before, broke completely. He shrieked and clapped his hands to his face, trying to stop the blood flow and the pain. Taylor dropped to his knees, and Dr. Sheldon saw tears somehow getting through the eyelids that were so tightly stitched together.

"Don't. Ever. Talk. Back. To. Me."

Taylor nodded fervently, not saying anything until the door had closed completely and he was sure he was alone. It was then that he sobbed. He hadn't cried in so long, and it tired him out quickly yet he couldn't stop. His parents had sent him there, afraid of him and hoping that it could stop whatever he could do with his eyes, hoped that maybe the doctor would take the stitches off his eyes that the doctors had so carefully put there when he was only three years old. He had been forced into isolation for two years, and it nearly killed him. It wasn't the fact that he was alone, but it was the darkness that came with it. He hadn't even done anything to get forced into that small cell, but the doctor hated him so much.

How was this supposed to help him "get better"? This place was, if anything, making him insane. He was going crazy, and soon... he would be like the others. This thought made him both sad and frightened, and he pulled his knees up to his chest, crying until he went to sleep.

**-intricate-**

"What the _fuck_ just happened?"

"I don't know, Dal..."

"What the hell happened to the kid?! He was there and he... and did you see his _face_?!"

Soda nodded, not sure that he could open his mouth anymore without throwing up. He had seen Johnny's face, he had seen Johnny three times, and now he looked so much worse. He had been thin before, but now he was almost skeletal, and he was in such bad shape. How could someone be alive and look like that?

"We're gonna find him." It was not a question, it was a statement. Dallas was saying that they _were_ going to help him, or he would kick Soda's ass. Because _nobody_ could mess with Johnny and get away with it.

"Yeah, Dal? _When_?"

Dallas glared at Soda. "_When_?! Right now! We're gonna tell the other guys, 'cause Johnny never stays away this long, and they're gonna have to believe us. So however he got here, we'll take there and get him the fuck back, got it?"

Soda had to admit it was a good plan, but how would the others ever believe them? Granted, Dallas was able to kick the shit out of people, but even that wouldn't convince them that Johnny was somehow in another dimension where he was being tortured and what have you.

"Okay, Dal."

**-hush-**

Johnny was thrown back into the cell, his chest heaving. Oh god... Dr. Sheldon had... but he hadn't... oh _God_. He lay on the ground, his eyes closed, and tried to concentrate on anything but the pain. What Dr. Sheldon had done to him was _sick_.

And he was going insane.

His breath hitched, and he felt tears rolling down his cheeks. He didn't want to have to live like this, where every noise made him jump, and people took advantage of him because he was too small, too weak, to fight back. Nothing was going to help him at all now. He was gone, his mind had left completely.

He wasn't going to be able to go back.

_That's not fair! I've tried so hard to... but I'm not going crazy, right? I'm just asleep... I'm not crazy... it's this fucked up place and that doctor..._

There was movement to his right, and he opened his eyes, seeing Taylor leaning against the wall, his chest rising and falling slowly. There was dried blood on his face, and it stood out against his pale skin.

"Taylor?"

Taylor started, turning his head from left to right before finally turning to Johnny.

"What _happened_ to you?"

"Doctor got angry," Taylor mumbled, trying to get the dried blood off his face and only succeeded in hurting his nose even more.

Johnny sighed, and bit his lip. Had the doctor done anything else to Taylor?

"Anything... anything else?"

Taylor raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "No," then he looked more than a little shocked, "what did he do to you?"

He wasn't sure he could say it... he didn't think he could tell Taylor exactly what the doctor had done to him. But he was going to have to sometime. Now was the best time he could think of. "He... that thing... he did it."

Although it was a terribly bad explanation, Taylor seemed to get the gist of it, and he looked angry, upset, and horrified at the same time.

"Come with me, Mr. Cade."

Johnny whirled around and let out a squeak. In the door stood the doctor himself, looking like a cat that had just cornered his prey and was ready to eat.

He didn't even have time to move as Dr. Sheldon grabbed his arm. Taylor jumped up and threw himself at Dr. Sheldon was and wrapped his thin arms around his neck. The doctor didn't have much of a problem throwing Taylor off of him. He punched back, hitting Taylor's already-broken nose. The young boy swore, and fell off him.

"Isolation, Mr. Cade."


	8. Chapter 8

**A Note from the Author:**

I'm almost done with this story! Then I can start working on The Godfather and JRC.  
Well, I have to re-watch The Godfather, but I can at least finish my description of Michael.  
So I'll be updating more I think, because school is letting out this Friday (8th grade promotion!) which means summer starts!  
Boy, I can't wait until high school... –sarcasm-  
SAWYER BROWN DOES NOT GO WITH THIS.  
I don't own anything, except Taylor and Doctor Sheldon who, in the original thing for this that I'm doing for my zero period class, is named Doctor Riggins.  
Yeah, he _is_ a big crap head.

**-pride-**

Lights and sound assaulted his ears and eyes, and Johnny felt that if he had to endure any more of this, he would find some way to kill himself. Gouge out his eyes to stop himself from seeing what the doctor did to him, cut off his ears to get rid of all the noise.

He curled himself into the smallest ball possible, covering his head as the harsh light continued, and the noise filled the room. There was nowhere for it to go. Up, down, sideways, right, left, center... Johnny laughed hysterically. Oh, but what a wonderful feeling it was to loose his mind at last, to forget everything.

_But I'm not._ He thought, the laughter ceasing, but not leaving an empty room at all. If anything, he was reliving every moment of pain he had endured in his life. Every sting of the belt on his back, every word his mother screamed at him. Every punch the Socs threw. It was the good memories that were slipping away.

"No," he whimpered, tugging at his hair as he desperately tried to wrap his mind around the few times that he was genuinely happy. That time in the park when Dallas had only just arrived from New York and had seen Johnny staggering out of his father's house, bruised and bleeding. Dally had stayed with him all night, telling him stories.

Or those times when Johnny stayed home from school and Mrs. Curtis would make chocolate chip cookies. They would spend the day talking, sometimes just enjoying each other's company until someone else (usually Dallas or Two-Bit) came by.

They were leaving.

Johnny felt tears rolling down his cheek. It seemed like every time he thought about those things, the more they became like some sort of tall tale. Like the life he had been living since he could remember was a mere fantasy.

All of a sudden, the light went out and the sounds ceased. He was left in silence that was, in a way, both a friend and a foe. It was such a drastic change from the light and incessant noise that it frightened him.

In the darkness, he felt the remaining bits of his sanity break free.

**-side-**

It was a good thing the rest of the gang believed them, because Soda didn't think he could handle his brothers thinking he was insane. If Dallas hadn't been there to back up his statement, well, he wouldn't have had a chance.

"He just appears?" Ponyboy asked, his green-grey eyes wide and curious. He was afraid for his friend. He was afraid that when (_if_) they got Johnny back, he wouldn't be like he used to be.

Soda nodded, searching the walls for any sign of a portal leading to the asylum where Johnny was being kept. "Outta nowhere. Now, are you gonna help me find the thing or not?"

By the end of the day the group had searched the house two and a half times. They were all frustrated and exhausted. Dally collapsed gracelessly on the couch, ready to fall asleep like the rest of his friends. However, this wasn't possible, for he found Sodapop prodding his arm.

If it wasn't for the fact that Soda told him about Johnny and might have had important information, Dallas would have hit him.

"Hm?"

"Dal, it's glowing," Soda whispered, and Dallas' eyes snapped open. Before them, set in the wall, was the doorway to the asylum. Their one ticket to getting Johnny back...

and it was closing.

"_SHIT_!"

Soda's yell woke the others, and all they had a chance to see was the two teenagers charging headlong into the portal before vanishing completely.

Then, there was utter chaos.

**-loosing-**

Heh, I kid.  
There was no chaos that I'm aware of, but I  
like that phrase...  
'utter chaos'  
sounds like a cow war.

It's almost over


	9. Chapter 9

**Note of Authors:**

You know what's sad about creating someone like Taylor?  
I start to like him, and in my mind imagine what it would be like if we were friends.  
Because I have an image of him at an older age  
In a different situation  
And we'd get along semi-well, I think  
Then I remember  
oh yeah...  
he can't be my friend because  
he's only imaginary.  
So I don't own anyone but Taylor,  
Although I feel like he's writing himself more now.  
For once...  
I'm actually excited to write  
with a character that I made up.

**-confidence-**

Dallas and Soda stumbled out of the portal, their stomachs churning. The journey was harder than they had expected, but then again... nothing was ever as it seemed.

"Now where do we go?"

They were in a long hallway, filled with identical, white metal doors. The only thing that stood out was a series of numbers. The one across from them was **208**. "Maybe Johnny's in that one," Soda said, motioning to the door.

Dallas hurried forward, being the one who could see through the window without actually having to stand on tip-toe. He swore, and punched the door when all he saw was a boy sitting in a corner.

"Johnny's not in there."

At the sound of the word 'Johnny' (the window was not covered with glass), the boy looked up and approached the door. At first, Dallas thought he was just sleepwalking, but as the occupant of the room got closer, he saw that his eyes were sewn shut.

"Johnny?"

"Yeah, short kid, black hair..." Dallas stopped, realizing that this kid wouldn't know anything about Johnny's hair colour ."Um... quiet?"

The boy nodded, his face turned upwards, as if he was looking at Dallas. "The doctor took him," he said. His voice was raspy and hoarse, like someone who had been smoking for a long time.

"Where?" Dallas heard Soda pacing behind him, and wished that he would stop.

"I... could show you... if you get me out of here."

Damn it. There was a catch. He examined the door for a moment, frowning more every second. Was there even a way to get him out? Then he spotted it... the door handle was coming off. If he could pull hard enough, he just might get the whole thing off and then the kid could lead them to Johnny.

"Hey, Soda, gimme a hand here."

Soda turned to Dallas and nodded, helping Dallas pull at the knob until he thought his arms would tear out of their sockets. At last, the two fell back with a _thud_, the knob in their hands.

"Okay, kid, push the door open."

The boy did as he was told, and pushed open the door. It took a while, but soon he was out in the hall with Soda and Dallas, looking more than nervous.

"What's your name?"

"Taylor."

"Dallas, Soda, hallway, go." Soda said, and marched off, not knowing where in the world he was going. It was when he realized that nobody was following him that he stopped.

"Wrong way," Taylor mumbled, placing his hand on the wall and moving to the right rather than the left. Soda felt embarrassed that someone who couldn't see knew the way better than he did. _Him_, the guy who had never even been in an asylum, much less one so primitive as this.

It really made no sense to him.

"Where are we going exactly?"

There was a pause, when Taylor ran his hands over the protruding, plastic black numbers on the door next to him before continuing on again. "Iso... he wasn't doing so good b—"

"He'll get better though, right?" The concern in Dallas' voice made Soda's heart ache.

"I don't know," Taylor rasped, turning back to Dallas, who stopped in his tracks. "Iso changes you."

**-trying-**

Johnny leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. He couldn't sleep... sleep made him dream, and the dreams made him wake up, then the whole cycle would repeat. Sleep was horrible...

His eyelids drooped, and his head dropped onto his chest, but snapped back up again as the sound and light began once more. Johnny no longer screamed when this happened, instead he just groaned and covered his head with his arms, hiding his face from the light that wouldn't let him sleep.

Doctor Sheldon entered the room, a sick smile on his face. Johnny knew what was going to happen next, but would still never be able to prepare himself mentally for something such as this. As the doctor exited, he flipped a switch on the outside of the room that started the lights and sounds once more.

**-oz-**

Soda's legs hurt, and he began to wonder if now was the time to ask "are we there yet?" They seemed to have taken so many turns, so many doors opened and closed behind and in front of them and now... where were they?

"Are we there yet?" Dallas asked from behind him, and Taylor shook his head.

"We're close, though, right?"

"Yes."

At long last, they came to a door. It was small, and there was no number on it. Inside it was dark, and quiet.

Taylor ran his hand along the door before finding something, and he pushed down, watching as the door slid back. A square of light cut through the darkness, landing on a small figure against the far wall.

"_Johnny?_"


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:**

You all knew it was coming, the oh-so-wonderful ending to this story, with an epilogue coming up and maybe a sequel. Yeah, that's right, a _sequel_. Or... another story with Taylor, anyway.

Only this time it won't be the Taylor in here. He'll be different. It won't be slash, because I can't right that to save my life. Maybe it'll be one-sided slash... I'm not sure yet.

Promotion was great, one of my best guy friends isn't going to the same high school as me next year, and I felt really sad during the slideshow, but it was cool because during Softball, I get to see some of my friends (Ali kept telling me I was adorable... it was embarrassing).

So now I'm freaking out about high school. Honors English, whether or not my friends will be in my classes, am I in the "stupid" math, can I get into symphonic choir, and will my school let me take Italian through the mail or over the internet (because where I live, they don't teach it). And... can I get into Drama and Film club. Can I act in the musical next year?

They better let me.

I don't own anyone but Taylor and Dr. Sheldon. This is possibly the longest Authors Note I've ever done.

**-TCBY-**

Dallas pressed his hand against the wall. They were back where they started, but the portal was gone. Soda carried Johnny, who had put up quite a struggle before passing out completely. Taylor listened for the sounds of approaching footsteps. So far, the halls were silent.

"Shit... I can't find the spot!" Dallas hissed, banging his fist on the wall. Soda approached the wall, and leaned against it. When he didn't go through, he sighed and stepped back.

"Maybe we have to wait?"

"We don't have _time_ to wait, Soda! What if the kid's dying or somethin'?!" Dallas looked briefly at Johnny and then turned back to the wall.

"Open up, God damnit! Open the fuck up!"

"We gotta hide," Taylor said suddenly, turning around to face them. "It's rec. time and they're releasing the patients."

Sure enough, the sound of footsteps echoed through the halls. Dallas froze, and Soda nearly dropped Johnny. Taylor poked his head around the corner and was suddenly pulled from view.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING OUT OF YOUR CELL?!" Someone bellowed.

"I was just... I... I had to _go_..."

"I DON'T WANT ANY OF YOUR EXCUSES!"

"I-It's not an e-e-excuse..."

"_Where are they_?"

There was silence, save for the shuffling of feet as people continued to make their way to the rec. room. Then there was movement, and someone let out a hiss of pain (probably Taylor, considering the position he was in at the moment). "I don't know what you're t-t-talking about—oh _shi_— I'm _serious_!"

"Cade's gone. The door's open. Where. Are. They."

Again, silence, followed by an ear-splitting scream. There was laughter. It was soft, but still audible. Then, very softly, Taylor choked out the location. "They're... around the c-c-corner..."

Something dropped onto the ground, and then there were loud footsteps. Soda and Dallas scrambled back, but they were not quick enough. Someone rounded the corner, and, for the first time, they saw Dr. Sheldon.

He was not incredibly intimidating, but there was something _about_ him that frightened Soda and made Dallas incredibly uneasy. "_DROP MY PATIENT_!" Dr. Sheldon yelled, and Soda almost considered dropping Johnny and making a run for it.

The boy stirred in Soda's arms, and he opened his eyes. His large, black eyes showed nothing but fear, and confusion. Why was he out of his cell? Why was Dr. Sheldon here? He practically jumped out of Soda's arms, and scurried around the corner with as much speed as he could muster.

"_No_ visitors allowed," Dr. Sheldon hissed, advancing toward the two. He reached a hand into his lab coat and withdrew

Johnny sunk down to the floor, leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. Not only was he confused, but he was beginning to get a headache. He knew who those two boys were, but he couldn't remember their names, or where he had seen them.

Someone let out a shaky breath beside him, and he turned around. Taylor was in a similar position, leaning against the wall. However, his hands covered his face, and blood would drip through his fingers. Some had already dried on his hands, and his nails dug into the skin on his forehead and cheeks until blood had begun to trickle from the cuts.

"Taylor, are y-you okay?"

The boy turned toward him, and his pale hands fell away from his face. Johnny was both shocked, and disgusted. His friend, who had had his eyes closed for so long, had them open at last, revealing a rather pretty grey colour. Still, the area around it was bloody, and when Taylor closed his eyes, Johnny saw why.

The stitches that had once held his eyelids together had been ripped off with no care whatsoever. There were ragged tears in the boy's pale flesh, and the strings lay on the ground only a few yards away.

Johnny was about to say something, when gunshots sounded. Both boys turned their head in the direction of

Dallas jumped out of the way, dodging a shot fired by Dr. Sheldon, who had a gun. Soda seemed to be frozen in place, his back up against the wall, chocolate brown eyes wide and filled with terror.

Another shot was fired, and this time Dallas was not quick enough. The bullet lodged itself in his leg, and he fell, swearing loudly through tears of pain. Sure, he had been stabbed before. He had had a lot of things happen to him, but getting shot was not one of them.

He awaited another shot, maybe one aimed for his head, but nothing came. Instead there was a strangled cry and the sound of something clattering to the floor. Dallas opened one eye and watched as Taylor wrapped his thin arms around Dr. Sheldon's neck, squeezing as tight as he could to cut off the old man's air supply.

Johnny rushed forward to help Dallas, looking a little confused when he was doing so, but helping none the less. Where he got the strength, Dally didn't know, but he was glad it happened then.

By this time, Dr. Sheldon had thrown Taylor off, and was advancing toward Soda, who ducked at the first fire and scuttled over to Dallas and Johnny (Dallas figured that by this time Taylor had run away).

It wasn't like you'd expect, the firing of a gun that would end someone's life. There were no witty remarks, no gestures, no permission to say goodbye to loved ones, there were no words spoken at all by Dr. Sheldon. In fact, it was dead silent.

Until he fired the gun.

The weapon had been pointed at Johnny, and so naturally, that's where the three on the ground thought the bullet would go. This was not the case, however, and Johnny found himself in no pain (from the bullet) and not even close to dead. Someone fell in front of him, and it took a moment before he realized it was Taylor.

Taylor, who had a puddle of blood slowly forming around his head. Taylor, who's chest ceased to rise and fall. _Taylor_, who's grey eyes were open and full of nothing but determination.

It took Johnny a moment to realize that the boy was dead, having been shot right through the back of the head. The bullet had shattered his skull, and bits of brain lay mixed in with the crimson blood that was slowly covering the floor.

Whatever happened next, Johnny would never be sure of the actual details. All he knew was that he wrenched the gun from Dr. Sheldon's fingers, there was a seemingly brief moment of darkness, and when he came to his senses, he was standing above Dr. Sheldon, who's head was so full of lead it was almost unrecognizable.

There was absolute silence, and suddenly Soda whispered, "the portal opened." The two others turned their head to the wall, and saw the swirling abyss open. Soda looked at the two before taking Johnny's hand and leading him inside. Dallas followed, making sure that Johnny didn't fall or hurt himself (the kid just looked so _fragile_).

As soon as they set foot into the portal, Johnny's legs gave out and he collapsed, unconscious.

**-trippy-**

I'm not so proud of this chapter.

Felt like there was too much violence and stuff

HA! Maddie... saying there's _too_ much violence...

That's hilarious.

Well, I also felt that it was rushed, but I had the Super Mario song stuck in my head and if that doesn't take the mood out of a good drama, I don't know what does.

Even making my little Taylor-poo argue

With Ace during an rp doesn't help.

Duuude, his home life is screwed up.

Like... more than Johnny's.

'S creepy.

Epilogue coming up

And then I might write the sequel that is not a sequel

But it contains Taylor.

I wish I had a pocket Taylor that I could carry around.

Then I'd be cooool. xD


	11. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Johnny plopped down on the couch, his eyes fixed on the TV that was currently playing an episode of _The Munsters_. Two-Bit was staring at the television, a zombie-like expression on his face.

There was something off about Johnny. Ever since he left the asylum, he was different. His eyes were no longer suspicious and fearful; they were hard, plastic-looking. He wasn't sweet and quiet, either. Now Johnny was loud, sarcastic, and opinionated about everything. He was more like Dallas, without the hood-like behaviour.

Still, there were moments when the old Johnny would appear, and those moments were the ones that the gang held onto.

Johnny watched as Herman threw a temper-tantrum, and his mind began to wander. Taylor's face appeared in his mind, and he wondered what would have happened if the boy hadn't been shot. If they had all gotten out alive, and unscathed.

_But see, Johnny... I _did_ get out. I'm inside your mind._ Taylor's voice stated simply.

_Why, though?_

_Because, the asylum will always be a part of you. Iso changes people, Johnny. You'll always be with us._

**-The End-**

Ew.  
Sounds like the ending to a Twilight Zone episode.  
Or Goosebumps, your choice.


End file.
